Chapter One
October 1911
Elsie Atherton was born to be married. Her husband might be spoiled, arrogant, unnaturally self-assured and bossy, but he had learned the important skill of paying attention when his wife expressed her opinion. The fact Blake was loving, kind, thoughtful and eager to please made Elsie’s marriage the entertaining and fulfilling adventure of her dreams. Mr. Atherton’s good looks and bank account caused both delight and distress.
The reluctant lady of the house wore a day dress of grey silk poplin, feeling it gave her a mature presence. She was about to entertain as a married woman for the first time. Her dress had a white cotton lace bib and standup collar. Large grey buttons drew attention to shoulder tucks. Narrow, black velvet ribbon trimmed both the collar and cuffs. The dress perfectly accented Elsie’s slight frame. Her dark brown hair was styled into a bandeau, which gave a soft effect and emphasized Elsie’s long, slender neck. She was not fond of the large and gaudy hair ornaments that were the rage and instead chose modestly sized but expensive jeweled ornaments her husband had gifted her.
Tired of waiting, Elsie poured her tea and flavored it to her liking. First taking a deep whiff, she sipped her favorite brew—Prince of Wales. Natalie was late, as usual.
The balcony seemed an ideal locale. It was a beautiful fall day in Los Angeles. Elsie enjoyed the tinkle of the fountain perfectly centered below her vantage point. Since moving in, she sought out the coziest areas of her husband’s opulent home, few though they were. The balcony was her favorite. Blake’s mother had a small sitting room adjacent to her bedroom in days gone by. Elsie claimed the space as her own. Aside from the winding garden paths, she had no other hiding places.
“Madam,” stated a dour John as he directed Elsie’s friend through the balcony doors, “your guest has arrived.” Elsie rose from her chair and turned to greet Natalie Grant whose mouth was agape as she approached her former schoolmate.
“That will be all, John.” This statement proved the end of any assumption of maturity.
The girls watched John’s retreat before giving a mutual squeal and ardent bear hug. Natalie held Elsie apart to look in her face. “I swear, Elsie, how did you end up in this place? It’s fabulous! I can’t tell you how impressed I am. Whose house is this, really?”
“It’s Mr. Atherton’s. I thoroughly detest it.”
“Have you lost your mind? I can’t wait to tell Mother all about this. She won’t believe how well you married! I know she was taken with Blake from the moment we met on Catalina last summer. Well, I was too, to be honest. I was completely shocked when he married you so abruptly. Wait, I better not tell her about your mansion. She’ll plot to marry me off to some simple-minded fogy so I’ll have an opulent home. It’s best she couldn’t come today.”
“Have a seat, Natalie. I’ll pour. Why couldn’t Mrs. Grant come? I hope she’s well.”
Natalie quickly made herself at home. Elsie noticed she was wearing one of the frocks she’d bought while touring the continent. The blue-gray of her dress matched her eyes. Natalie’s blond curls were perfectly arranged. Elsie could not help but think Natalie was better suited for life in the Atherton mansion than was she.
“Oh, my parents have been fighting ever since the election. Mother decided to take up the call and work for women’s suffrage since we returned from Catalina. It was a bit late for that as far as I was concerned.
“As was reported in the papers, all the ladies were disappointed in the results on election night. I thought it was so wonderful the way they kept their chins up and declared they would return to fight again. But when Mother came home, Father was rather snide about her defeat. He rubbed it in a bit when he mentioned all the other measures on the ballot passed. Then he admitted he voted no on Proposition 4. I thought Mother’s eyes would bulge right out of her head. Never before in my life had I heard them fight. Mother was yelling right in front of the servants. It’s a sight I won’t soon forget.
“But that was nothing. As days went by and more votes were counted, Mother became quite combative. ‘I told you so,’ was the comment of the day—and the night—and the next day. I don’t know if she’ll ever let Father live this down. Things might not have gotten out of hand had they counted the votes from San Francisco last. Men were certainly opposed to suffrage for women in that city.
“It’s thrilling to think we’ll witness the first women to vote in December. We’ll be old enough to vote in the presidential election of 1912! The paper says women can register on Monday. Mother hopes to be among the first.”
“What does any of that have to do with your mother being unable to join us today?”
“Oh, she’s quite done in from all the fighting. Mother took to her bed yesterday, an emotional calamity. I believe she might remain there until father apologizes. She sends you her best and her sincerest regrets. Hopefully, she’ll come next time so she can see your house.”
“Well, next time will not be here.”
“Why? What’s wrong with here? This must be one of the grandest homes in all of Los Angeles. Don’t tell me your Mr. Atherton has purchased something even more splendid for his new bride?”
“Blake has bought something else for me, a home we agreed on. I’m only staying here to appease Blake and because Mother moved to the new house he bought her. We had been staying with her most of the time.”
“This home has been sold, then?”
“No. Blake is terribly attached to it. He’s not ready to let it go. Our new house is in Long Beach.”
“Is it bigger than this?”
“Certainly not. A third the size. I’m completely uncomfortable living here. Goodness, marching bands could parade through this house and never run into each other. Scone?”
“You must admit, it’s rather romantic. Your husband is giving up the home he loves to live in obscurity.”
“It might be remotely located, but it’s hardly obscurity. I’ll have you come once we’re settled in. You’re my first guest here and you can be my first guest in the new house. I had to see you, Natalie. It’s been a long time since we could sit and talk.”
“You haven’t entertained at all?”
“No. I don’t plan to do much entertaining. You know what we learned at Miss Orton’s. The first year of marriage must be carefully managed for a new wife. Future health and well-being depend on stress-free surroundings.” Elsie sipped her tea, contemplating the idea it would be unfortunate, indeed if stress-free surroundings were essential to men. Blake had proven his devotion in unlikely ways and gone from cavalier, easy-going bachelor to uncomfortable, troubled husband afflicted by a nervous tick in short order. Returning to a familiar, mother-in-law-free habitat had done wonders.
“When are you moving?”
“As soon as possible. Unfortunately, Blake is a connoisseur of all things wooden, no doubt due to his occupation as a boat builder. On close inspection, he was not pleased with some of the crown molding and cabinetry in our new house. He insisted it be corrected before we move in. I have my suspicions this was merely a plot to see if I would adjust to life here. I’m not the most trusting of wives so far.”
“Did his plot work?”
“Do I sound like I wish to stay here amongst the marching bands?”
Natalie laughed. “No, you certainly do not.”
The girls enjoyed their tea and chat. When Natalie asked for a tour of the house, Elsie summoned John. She was certain he would do the Atherton abode proud when she could not. Eager to make the Long Beach house her home, the new Mrs. Atherton trailed behind while Natalie took in every detail and appeared spellbound by John’s accompanying lecture.
* * *
Elsie stood at the bottom of the grand staircase as her husband burst through the front door. If she felt like a timid gazelle stepping onto the African plains, she had no doubt Blake was an elephant barreling his way toward whatever destination struck his fancy. The title of king of the jungle did not fit him. He was not the most fearsome wild creature, merely the biggest presence around, dominating his environment by sheer determination.
Blake threw his Panama hat on the entry table and combed his fingers through his light brown hair. No matter the nature of his work at the shipyard, he always appeared immaculately attired once he returned home. Elsie had been amazed at the number of suits in his closet. Although her modest wardrobe barely took any space, it had grown substantially since the first day she met her extravagant husband. His eyes lit up at the sight of her.
“My darling! You’ve come to greet me!”
Before Elsie knew what hit her, she was locked in Blake’s embrace, as mesmerized by his green eyes as he was with her topaz blue orbs. After a discreet kiss intended more as a chaste display of affection than an expression of his passion, Blake offered his arm and shouted, “John, please serve. I’m starved.”
Escorting his bride to the lavish dining room, he steered her around a grand table perfectly positioned beneath a glorious chandelier. The couple took their meals at a small, round table for two in the bay window. Not only was conversation more easily achieved, Blake could reach out and touch his beloved at will as he now did when he took her hand. Elsie could not help but wonder how long his ardent devotion would last.
“What have you been up to today, my sweet Elsie?”
“You remember. My friend Natalie came for tea.”
“That’s right! How did your foray into entertainment go? Are you ready for more? Perhaps President Taft would join us for a dinner party before he leaves town.”
In light of past accomplishments, Elsie was never certain if her husband was being serious. The fact he might know President Taft or even count him as a friend was not out of the question. Her doubt must have shown on her face.
“I’m teasing you, Elsie. I know you’re opposed to any more responsibility than necessary at this juncture. Besides, I like having you all to myself. Tell me about your tea. How is dear Natalie?”
As John served the soup course, Elsie responded, “She’s well. I believe she will inevitably further her education. Her mother, as sweet as Mrs. Grant is and as much as I owe her, is something of a pest. She’s urging Natalie to marry.”
“Does she have a beau?”
“Not at present. One would think since Mrs. Grant is currently involved in the suffrage movement, she would consider Natalie’s wishes more seriously.”
“I wasn’t aware Mrs. Grant was a suffragette.”
“Oh, yes. She became quite involved since summer, even driving around the city to have her chauffeur deliver men to the polls. She and her husband had a serious disagreement over the election. There was acrimony over the paint on their limousine having somehow been ruined by the adhesive Mrs. Grant used to affix her patriotic bunting. Then, Mr. Grant admitted he voted against women’s suffrage and gloated when he thought the measure failed. I’m so pleased you voted for us, Blake. We needed every vote.”
Elsie stared critically at her husband. Although he professed to have voted for the ladies, she would always have her doubts. Without a trace of guile, Blake smiled in return and replied, “You know I would do anything for you, Elsie. Haven’t I proven myself time after time? But promise me you’ll never use adhesive on the Matheson.
“I dropped by the house today. The workers finished the woodwork. I’m pleased by the way they matched preexisting patterns. Painting will commence on Monday. I wondered if you’d like to accompany me to Long Beach? I could drop you off so you could assure all the colors are being applied correctly. The wallpapers also need to be assigned to the proper rooms.” Understanding Elsie’s desire to abandon his lavish house, he anticipated her positive response.
“I can’t go on Monday.”
Clearly stunned, Blake asked, “Why not? I thought you were anxious to move.”
“I am, but Monday is the first day ladies can register to vote. Natalie and I plan to accompany Mrs. Grant. We may not be old enough to vote, but we want to be part of this historic moment.”
“I haven’t read anything about registration in the paper, aside from the fact it begins on the 16th. Where will you go?”
“I’m certain we’ll find a place. I want to be able to tell our daughters about this experience.”
“Our daughters?”
Elsie blushed. “Our future daughters.”
“Oh. I was wondering if we managed to make a baby and this was your way of telling me. We’ve certainly been practicing enough.”
“Hush! John will hear.” Elsie looked nervously over her shoulder to confirm the butler had not returned to serve the next course. She felt every bit as uncomfortable living in Blake’s house as he had been in her mother’s. Perhaps it was the reason her husband had been so affable. Or perhaps, it was simply his way with her. Their fledgling marriage remained a novel experience. “I have a request.”
“I’m all ears, Mrs. Atherton.”
“I want to learn to drive.” Elsie braced herself for reproach and was, again, stunned at her husband’s response.
“I’d be delighted to teach you. We could start this weekend. But you do understand, Elsie, you won’t be able to drive by yourself.”
“Why not? What would be the point of learning, then? It wouldn’t be any more dangerous than taking the trolley, if you’re concerned for my welfare.”
“I’m agreeing because I think it would be fun for you to drive. My point is, I want you to come back the first time you take the car.”
“Why wouldn’t I come back? You’re not making any sense, Blake.” Elsie cut her comments short when John reappeared.
“This is my point. Ladies are not strong enough to crank the starting handle. Further, serious injuries have occurred to grown, able men when an automobile backfires upon starting. When you drive a car that was already started, you could go as far as the fuel would take you. But once you stop, how will you return? Frankly, I don’t understand your refusal to let me hire a chauffeur.”
“It can’t be that hard to start a car.”
“General Motors installed the first electric starter in a Cadillac, but I imagine it will take time before they’re commonplace. I’ll let you have a go tomorrow and we’ll see how you do. Does this sound like an acceptable plan?”
Elsie eyed her husband suspiciously. He seemed too agreeable. She had little doubt he was correct in his assessment of her ability to crank the engine and changed the subject. “You won’t have to go to the boatyard tomorrow?”
“No. A&B is at a crossroads. I think it could be the most exciting opportunity to date.”
“Why?”
“We don’t have any orders. We’re free to build anything we like. It’s quite wonderful.”
“Blake, how can it be wonderful if you’re out of work? That makes no sense. How will you pay your employees?”
“Now you sound like Joah. He can’t see the opportunity either. We could build ships to our own specifications. There is no buyer to please. What’s more, I’ve been thinking about the Panama Canal. Once complete, it will change the world. Goods can be sent through the canal far more cheaply than by train. There’s a real shortage of freighters. A&B could abandon wood and use steel to build more substantial ships.”
“Do you know anything about steel?”
“We’ll learn. We could hire an expert—someone eager to manufacture but bereft of funds. I don’t see a problem.”
This was probably Blake’s biggest flaw. He never saw a problem. He simply pursued his desires like the elephant he was. She knew Blake was seldom the voice of reason. That was Joah Brundidge’s role.
“What does Joah think?”
“He’s completely opposed. He wants to start a line of small craft—fishing boats.”
“It sounds like a good idea. Somewhat less radical than yours. How do you feel about his plan?”
“It has possibilities. I’m not certain where we’re headed right now, but we don’t have long to decide. You haven’t become enamored of my frivolous way of life, have you? You’re not worried about imminent poverty? Surely, you’re still committed to being one of the common people?”
“I will admit, I’m quite fond of my new dresses. I want very much to make a home of our Long Beach house. Somehow, I’ll feel more a married woman when we live in a house of our own. But I’m confirmed in my desire to resist your lavish lifestyle. I never want to be a snob again.”
“Elsie, you might have acted foolishly while you were in school. You were a child. You’re the furthest thing from a snob. Do I seem a snob to you?” Blake had never considered she might assess him in such an unflattering manner.
“You’re not a snob. You are terribly bossy with people who work for you. At times, I don’t even know why they stay.”
“For the money, my darling. For the money. I assure you, I don’t feel superior to anybody. I simply want what I pay for. Besides, you always did want to marry a slackster. If I lose all my money, you’ll get your wish.”
“I never wished to marry a slackster. I was hopelessly in love with you and that was what you appeared to be. If you lost all your money, I’d love you just as well.”
“Elsie, you’ve only confirmed my suspicion I married brilliantly. You must have faith in my hunches. I’ll convince Joah I’m right and we’ll be richer than ever. He’s too wary—like you.”
Elsie imagined it was best Blake had a partner at A&B. Her husband’s business ventures were beyond her purview and there, they would stay.
* * *
“Elsieeeeee!”
Green eyes stared across the table as Blake swallowed the last of his dessert. “What is she doing here? Let’s hide under the table.”
Elsie patted her napkin to her lips. The mouse had arrived to frighten the elephant. Both Mr. and Mrs. Atherton turned their heads toward the dining room door as an altercation broke out on the other side.
John’s stern voice was clearly heard. “Madam! You can’t simply barge in and make yourself at home!”
“Of course, I can. My daughter is the lady of the house. She’s in there, isn’t she?” Mrs. Carroll burst through the door.
“Mother, won’t you have a seat? John, please bring another dessert.”
Blake nearly knocked over the table in his haste to excuse himself. “Mother Carroll, delightful as always. I have a business matter to attend to.” He gave her a polite kiss on the cheek and hurried for the door. Swimming had been an obsession before his marriage. He rarely indulged of late. Taking a plunge at the Bimini Bath suddenly seemed the perfect antidote to tedious relatives.
Elsie’s napkin came in handy as she pressed it to her lips once again. It was difficult to find her husband’s horror of his mother-in-law anything but amusing.
“Wait one moment. I have issues that concern you,” commanded Mrs. Carroll.
A hapless Blake took a deep breath, planted a smile on his face and turned to meet his fate. As usual, Mrs. Carroll was dressed in black from head to toe. It was as if a storm had blown into his dining room. “What kind of issues?”
“Issues with my house. There’s a steady drip under the kitchen sink. I’ve had to place a bowl there. The noise echoes through the house at night. I cannot sleep. You must come and fix it.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you, personally. You’ve taken little interest in my house since the day you bought it. I have no man on whom to rely. It is your duty as my son-in-law to see to it my house is maintained. Further, there’s a drawer in the pantry that is stuck so tight, I can’t pull it open. Something needs be done about it immediately. I have a stack of linens to put away. I’ve decided you must come for Sunday supper. The maintenance issues can be taken care of after we eat. All the girls will be home from Miss Orton’s school. Surely, you see how important this is to me? I so recently had a houseful of daughters. Now I’m all alone thanks to you.”
Elsie couldn’t tell which grated on Blake’s nerves more, her mother’s stern commands or her snobby, high-pitched, nasal voice. “Mother, aren’t you being a bit harsh? Blake works all week. We can’t expect him to play the role of handyman on Sunday, can we? Don’t you owe him everything?” Elsie tipped her head and raised an eyebrow, intent on exacting an apology. “Where would you be if Blake hadn’t gifted you your lovely home or paid your debts? You agreed Miss Orton’s was an outstanding opportunity for all the girls. Shouldn’t we be a bit more thankful?” Elsie imagined her mother’s dramatic entrance was merely a plea for attention.
“No need for apologies,” noted Blake, not that he believed his mother-in-law capable of regret. He turned toward the door. “I’ll send someone by next week to see to repairs.” At this, he disappeared, suddenly content to hide away in his cavernous abode.
Mrs. Carroll took her son-in-law’s vacated seat as John arrived to clear the dish and serve another dessert—almond torte. Elsie leaned across the table to apply a kiss to her mother’s cheek.
“So, what is this all about?”
“I’m serious, Elsie. My house needs repair. I’ve hardly seen anything of you since we finished shopping for furnishings. The girls are absent during the week and most weekends. My allowance permits only limited shopping. Your father is gone. My entire life changed when he died and all you girls have a new life. Where does that leave me? Oh, this torte is divine.”
“Mother, we were shopping only last week. I might not have taken on responsibility for this house as I should, but I have my own to furnish and decorate. It never bothered you when I went away to school.”
“True, but I had a houseful of girls and a sick husband. Now there’s no one left.”
“Didn’t you have any dreams or aspirations before you married? Honestly, there’s nothing Blake wouldn’t provide as far as hobbies or diversions. What about your friends in the neighborhood? Have you been around to visit? Do they know about your new house? Perhaps you should arrange a tea.”
Conversation turned to plans for the future, Sunday’s dinner menu and news of relatives, both near and distant. The ladies enjoyed a good visit, and Mrs. Carroll returned home in a better frame of mind.
* * *
Elsie sat in the wing chair in the alcove of her small sitting room, her feet on an ottoman, a cup of tea perched on the table at her side. As different as Mr. and Mrs. Atherton were, they found a common interest in books. Although her husband normally sought out histories and biographies when he wasn’t poring over the newspaper, Elsie’s literary interests had recently turned to the sensational.
Her current read was the scandalous Ethan Frome. Never having time for or familiarity with adult fiction in her young life, Elsie found Blake’s library fascinating, indeed. She barely noticed when her husband stuck his head through the doorway.
“Is she gone?”
Elsie didn’t look up from her tome. “She’s been gone for an hour. The coast is clear. I agreed we would come for Sunday dinner.”
“I can’t go,” admitted Blake as he crossed the room and took a seat near his bride. This caused Elsie to turn her book down on her lap and stare at him.
“Why ever not?”
“Uh, I have to go to the shipyard. I have a meeting.”
“And, who would you be meeting on a Sunday? You have pledged to tell me the truth, Mr. Atherton. This wouldn’t be one of your little fibs, would it?”
Blake sounded much like a little boy when he whined, “Don’t make me go, Elsie. You know I’ve never gotten on with your mother. The idea of spending the day in a houseful of screaming, gibbering girls is completely repellent. After all, I only recently escaped your mother’s bungalow. You can make an excuse for me.”
“We can’t avoid my family completely. In your heart, you know that’s true. My mother is a good cook. I promise you this, we won’t stay long after supper. Where were you hiding?”
“Now, that’s information I refuse to provide. I originally contemplated going for a swim. How will I disappear properly next time your mother intrudes if I divulge all my secrets?”
“I don’t understand why you’re afraid of Mother.”
Blake slumped in his chair. “I’m not afraid of Mrs. Carroll. I have never felt less in control of myself than I am around her. She’s aggravating and bossy. Yet, I owe her my respect. She is your mother. She is my elder. It’s all I can do to keep my temper in check. How could a sweet person like you have her for a mother?”
“It was a different time when she was a girl. She was young when she married. Father took control. She wished only to be a wife and mother. Women rarely worked outside the home unless their husbands were derelicts. Women didn’t expect to have any other opportunities. Mother never understood my success at or desire for school. It was my father who encouraged my academic career. Times are changing. She’ll never be a modern woman. You’re the man of her family now. She expects you to control her life the way Father did when he was alive. I believe she wants your attention.”
“I didn’t marry her.”
“Fair enough. But I have a feeling money won’t buy you freedom from being the son-in-law she desires. You’re a clever man. You’ll figure something out if you stop running away.” As Blake continued to pout, Elsie took up her book, only to be interrupted.
“My brother is coming to visit next summer.”
“When school is out?”
“If he makes it that long. He dislikes the university and wants to learn a business. I wrote and told him he could have a job for the summer. Lang’s too young for the glorious position he imagines. He has no experience.”
“How old is Lang?”
“Just a child. He’s 19.”
“Do you consider me a child? I’m 19, or I will be for a few more days.”
“Girls are different.” A sly grin lit Blake’s face. “You are every bit a woman. I think I need to prove it.” He stood and grabbed Elsie’s hand. “Our bed is waiting in the next room. The sheets are supposed to be fresh. I believe the maid’s work requires inspection.” Mr. Atherton applied a lingering kiss. Separating his wife from her clothing was something he looked forward to every day.